Well folks, this is it.

We've arrived at our final "first".

I must say, I will miss writing this story of James and I. It sure has been a wild ride, hasn't it? It was definitely a wild ride for me. Then again, I suppose I was the main character, so that's a given.

Well, anyway. I won't keep you waiting. Here we go!

Welcome to the final chapter of this piece:

The first "I love you".

The first "I love you" happened in the most unexpected way possible. Because, instead of it being a romantic, perfect story, like how our first kiss was, we were screaming at each other instead.

"James Potter, I told you not to do that stupid Wronski Feint thing, what did you think would happen? That was the most dangerous act of stupidity I have ever seen somebody do on a broomstick, you're lucky you didn't-"

"Evans!" he groaned from his hospital bed (oh, yeah, he was in the hospital wing, by the way. He crashed on his broomstick during the final Quidditch game of the year, THE GREAT IDIOT). "Pomfrey has already told me this a hundred times, I really don't need you harping it down my back too!"

"Actually, James Potter, I think a bit of harping is just what you need!" I screamed back. The other students that were in the hospital wing at the time looked very annoyed, but I did not care. "You could have died."

"I could not have died," he countered, rolling his eyes and slumping down in his bed. He looked thoroughly miserable with his body all bandaged up, cuts lining his face. The fact that they'd lost the Quidditch game probably wasn't making him feel much better, either.

"But it looked like you could have," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. "From the stands." I was startled to find my eyes suddenly welling up with tears. Stupid eyes.

James was alarmed as well, and suddenly dropped his annoyed, over-it attitude. "Don't cry," he whispered, looking half sorry and half scared. He'd never been great with handling crying women, particularly those named Lily Evans. "Lil, don't- I'm sorry, I didn't realize how it could have affected you-"

But it was too late. The blasted tears were already falling. "We all- thought you were- dead," I said between sobs. "It was so- scary."

Instantly, he sat up and reached out to envelop me in his arms. (To this day, I still don't know how he did that, because all his ribs were broken. People with broken ribs don't just abandon their invalid state like that, to my knowledge.)

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, running his hands through my hair as I sobbed into his stupid, muddy Quidditch jersey.

"I just couldn't stand the thought of you dying before I could tell you - before I could tell you -" I couldn't continue.

Luckily, James continued for me. "Before you could tell me you loved me?" he asked, his voice barely even perceptible.

In any other situation, I would have hit James for even suggesting this. I mean, seriously, you can't just assume that a girl loves you if they haven't told you that yet. However, as I lied on top of him on his deathbed, I just nodded. I felt his body freeze from under me, and his hands stopped running through my hair.

"You love me," he repeated in an emotionless voice.

I didn't answer right away. I let myself feel his breathing underneath my head. I let myself feel his heartbeat. I felt my own sync with his, if that's even possible. And then, I spoke.

"Yes. I do. I love you."

We lied there in silence. Or, at least, we did, until one of the idiot third years lying in another hospital bed, supposedly sick with the flu, began clapping, and then the rest of the students joined in.

Right. We had an audience. Like we always did.

God, we were just so entertaining to watch, weren't we?

"What is all this ruckus!" Madam Pomfrey, apparently, was not amused. "Miss Evans, what are you doing? You get off of that boy's chest this moment! He has 6 broken bones! Are you mad? Out, out! No more visitors!"

Psh. What a climactic ending to that romantic moment.

Reluctantly, I pushed myself off of James' crippled self and stood up. Then, I smiled at him as though absolutely nothing had happened, acting as though my face hadn't been streaming tears just a moment before.

"I'll see you when I see you, then," I told him, swinging my bag over my shoulder and turning to leave.

"Wait." My heart fluttered, and I stopped in my tracks.

"I love you too, Lil," I heard him say from behind me. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could hear the smile in his voice, and I turned. Sure enough, he was grinning like a maniac.

Stupid, stupid Potter. Stupid us. Only we could go from fighting to professing our love in 5 minutes flat. We both must be bipolar.

"Love you too."

"You already said that."

"I can't say it twice?"

"Ah, well, you've got me there."

We stood smiling at each other like idiots for a few moments, the rest of the hospital wing patients watching us with interest, until I was unceremoniously ushered out of the wing by a Miss Poppy Pomfrey, who seemed tired of my antics. Clearly, Poppy has never experienced true love before.

Well, folks, that's pretty much it. That's the story.

If I wasn't so tired of writing, I would come up with some sappy final paragraph about how "life is unexpected" or "you never know just how much someone can change you". But, let's face it, I am not a sappy person. So I think I will just leave it at this.

Now, will you all finally stop asking how we got together?

from the author:

thank u alllll for the PMs and reviews! reading them is literally the best part of my day.

i hope this isn't a strange request, but i'd love some ideas for some other short stories i can write (marauders era, of course). so if anyone has any ideas or wants me to write something in particular, leave a review or pm with it, and i may do just that. TECHNICALLY i'm supposed to be studying for finals right now, but who cares about those?

thxxxxx

-me